


Prayer

by satanchangedmypresets



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Post-Season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 10:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satanchangedmypresets/pseuds/satanchangedmypresets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finally finds something he's willing to pray for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prayer

The house is beautiful, and everything he’d ever dreamed of having. Ben was amazing, and standing in the backyard, tossing a baseball back and forth with him, Dean was sure this was all he’d ever wanted in the world. He woke up in the morning, cooked breakfast for himself and Ben and Lisa, and then went to work at his new construction job. It felt good to earn an honest living, and sometimes he could pretend it didn’t hurt when he closed his eyes at night and saw his brother’s face in flames.

Worse still, when his dreams of Hell merged with his fear for Sam, and the nameless soul he was torturing became Sam’s. Those were the nights he woke up shouting, Lisa’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and Ben called worriedly from the hall. He’d be there a second later with a glass of water and Dean felt his new family surround him, trying to hold him together.

Time passed, whether it was days or weeks or months, he couldn’t tell, but one morning Dean was walking down the hall to the bathroom and he realized it all was fake. The paintings on the walls, bought from the discount store down the road or from neighbor’s yard sales, the tiny angel figurines Lisa collected, the china dishes in the cabinet…it was all fake. It was all just stuff, stuff that Lisa had spent her whole life working so she could own them, own this house and this yard with its fake promise of security, and now it owned her. She knew what he did, had seen it with her own eyes, and in the end, she could live in this practiced ignorance because it owned her. It didn’t own him. He couldn’t pull the wool over his eyes any longer.

That was the first night he went out and got drunk.

That was the first night he really prayed.

Before, praying to Castiel had been a simple means of communication. Not an act of faith, or hope, or anything really. There was a difference between praying and knowing something would happen, and praying and _believing_ something would happen.

He thought about asking Lisa, but then again, maybe not. Lisa was fake.

Ben was still young though. Ben could still believe.

“Ben,”

Ben jumped, startled at the sound of his voice, and immediately began shoving the book ( _The Fountainhead_ by Ayn Rand, Dean noted, smart kid) onto his bedside table, nearly knocking the glass of water off, and Dean laughed as the boy stammered, trying to explain why he was up reading at one a.m.

“Relax, Ben, I need your help with something.”

Ben visibly relaxed and smiled up at his surrogate father. “Yeah, sure, Dean. What’s up?”

Lisa had gone to bed several hours ago, but Dean still felt awkward.

“Can you show me how to pray?”

Ben frowned, tilting his head slightly. Obviously, this wasn’t what he was expecting, but who expected a grown man to ask their girlfriend’s son how to pray? Dean had to give Ben credit though, the boy just shrugged and crawled out of bed, kneeling and setting his elbows on the edge of the bed, hands clasped.

“Come on,” Ben indicated with a nod of his head when Dean hesitated.

It took Dean a minute to get onto his knees next to Ben, cursing his aging body with every inch he had to lower it down. He remembered the time he’d fallen two stories and Sam had pop his knee back into its socket. Now it groaned with nostalgia, but Dean grit his teeth, mimicking Ben’s position.

“Dear…” Ben laughed. “Wow, this has been a while. I remember Father Jordan saying prayer is about belief. It’s not about what you want, it’s about what you feel. Do you remember the story of the Lord’s Prayer?”

Dean shook his head. He’d never actually read the Bible, so he wasn’t really familiar with any of it other than the stories he remembered from Sunday School as a kid.

“Well,” Ben went on, unperturbed. “Jesus gave the disciples a prayer to help them learn how to prayer. _‘Our Father, who are in Heaven…”_

 _Asshole isn’t in Heaven._ Dean thought, but he closed his eyes as Ben prayed anyone. His words reverberated around the room, soft and sure, and Dean started his own prayer.

_‘…prayer is about belief.’_

_Dear, uh…Castiel…I don’t know if you can hear me, but got this gut feeling that just maybe, maybe you can._

“…hallowed be Thy name…”

_This may be weird, and it may be too late, but I really just wanted to say…ah fuck, this is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done. Shit._

“…Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done…”

_Son of a bitch, maybe I should start over. Do I get a do over? Fuck…Dear…fuck…Cas, just look okay? I’m really shit at this. But…I…I need you. I really really need you right now. I thought I could do this…_

“…on Earth as it is in Heaven.”

_…but I can’t. I’m not…I’m not cut out for this life. I miss you. I miss how you always told the truth, even when it was fucked up. You’re real, Cas. I need real right now._

“Give us this day our daily bread and forgives us our trespasses…”

_Hope you can forgive me, I should’ve…I should’ve said something sooner…_

“…as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil…”

_…you were always there for me…and I should’ve…I should’ve, I didn’t have any right to, but I wanted to, and I still want to…_

“…for thine is the Kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.”

_I wish I’d asked you to stay._

“Dean?”

Dean opened his eyes when he felt Ben’s arm around his shoulder, his throat sore and weak, and he realized he was crying. Ben tugged him over, wrapping his arms around Dean, and Dean let his head rest wearily against the teen’s chest. He felt so tired, and when he crawled into bed beside Lisa, he slept for the first time without dreams.

The next day was Saturday and Dean had promised to take Ben to this “Saturday on the Lawn” concert event for local bands. Lisa waved them on with a smile and they spent the day eating junk food and listening to the local music, making bets on who would get a label and who would always be stuck in the garage days.

When Dean saw him, he felt his heart stop. He crossed over the grassy mall, leaving a bewildered Ben holding what was left of a deep-friend Twinkie, and stopped in front of the familiar man wearing a tan trenchcoat.

Castiel had a haunted look about him, and his eyes were just as tired as Dean’s.

“I prayed for you,” Dean said softly.

“I know,” Castiel’s expression was soft, kind, and held what Dean hoped was happiness. He broke into a grin, somehow all the pain of the past few months like an aftertaste. His fingers twitched as he fought the urge to pull Castiel in a tight hug.

“I hope it was okay.” Dean muttered self-consciously and Castiel gave him a tiny smile.

“Less profanity would have been preferred.”

Dean laughed and gave in, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s shoulders and pulling him firm against his chest. Castiel stiffened briefly before wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist, relaxed and gentle as if afraid of his reception. Dean turned his head slightly in, drawing in the scent of wind and light that seemed to always surround Castiel.

“I would have stayed.” Castiel whispered against the shell of his ear and Dean swallowed hard. “I will stay, if you wish.”

Dean just held him tighter in answer.


End file.
